


Five Ways In Which Being Pregnant Is Worse Than Giving Birth

by Dracothelizard



Category: Proefkonijnen RPF
Genre: For Science!, Friendship, Gen, RPF, Simulated Male Pregnancy, Spooning, Yuletide 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 16:11:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2779472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracothelizard/pseuds/Dracothelizard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clearly, a few weeks of getting hormone injections to simulate first trimester pregnany symptoms can't be worse than suffering immense pain for two hours.</p><p>Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Ways In Which Being Pregnant Is Worse Than Giving Birth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [busaikko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/busaikko/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy your Yuletide gift :)

“You know,” says Ilona, as Dennis has put down the baby doll in favour of eating the beschuit with muisjes, “it usually takes a lot longer. Labour, I mean. Two hours would be on the short side.”

Her colleague who is clearing away the electrodes nods. “Especially if it’s the first child; it can easily take twelve hours or more.”

Valerio pales, and eyes Dennis, who is also looking a little scared. “No way,” Valerio says. “I’m not doing this for twelve hours.” He really hopes the crew and producers haven’t got any new ideas. He can't even last two hours, how the hell is he supposed to last twelve?

“I wasn’t suggesting that you go again,” Ilona says, and smiles. “Just that the female viewers who have given birth might not be impressed by you guys only doing this for two hours.”

“But we weren’t doing it to impress women.” Well, maybe a little. “We were supposed to get a taste of what childbirth is like, and we did. Unless you wanna give us a fake womb and fake impregnate us, there’s nothing more we can do.”

“Oh, there’re a few ways to simulate pregnancy, actually. Especially the first trimester symptoms,” Ilona says calmly. “Since a lot of it is hormone-based.”

Valerio eyes the midwife warily. Her face is calm, and he can’t tell if she’s joking or serious. She would be a great poker player, probably. “Really?” he asks, part of him intrigued.

“How?” Dennis asks, turning on the bed to look at Ilona.

“Like I said, since a lot of first trimester symptoms happen because of the changes in hormone levels, they can be simulated. There are obviously symptoms like fatigue, weight gain and the discomfort that comes with a growing belly that we can’t simulate, but things like tender breasts or morning sickness?” She nods. “That’s something we can do. Just like two hours of labour was giving you a small taste of childbirth, this can give you a small taste of pregnancy.”

“So you wouldn’t make us wear those ridiculous fake bellies, then?” he asks.

“Not unless you want to,” Ilona replies, as if that’s something he might actually want to do.

Valerio exchanges a look with Dennis, and he can see his own concerns reflected in there. “How long will it take?” he asks.

“A full first trimester would obviously be about three months,” Ilona says, “but I’d say three weeks should be enough to give you a taste. It would be an intensive hormonal treatment, so you shouldn’t do it for much longer than that.”

Three weeks of hormones and vague pregnancy symptoms. It still sounds better than getting hooked up to electrodes for twelve hours, and if it makes the whole thing more realistic… “Why not?” Valerio smiles. “You in, Dennis?”

Dennis snorts. “Hell, no. Interesting as it sounds, I’ve just suffered through two hours of the worst pain imaginable, and now you want me to be fake-pregnant?” He smirks up at Valerio. “But since you wussed out earlier, you should definitely do this. And finish it,” he adds.

“It’s not like it’s gonna be painful.” Probably. “Right?” He looks at Ilona, whose face is once again calm and unreadable.

“Not as painful as what you’ve done today, no.”

It’s not very reassuring.

*

As with the labour experiment, Ilona has a couple of ground rules. One, Valerio isn’t allowed to drink any alcohol during the three weeks, which was almost enough to make him quit on spot. But when he started arguing, Dennis tsk’ed disapprovingly and muttered “wuss” under his breath. He’s not a wuss, and he can definitely do three weeks without alcohol. It might even do him some good.

Two, he and Dennis should live together during the three week period just so someone can keep an eye on Valerio in case there is any kind of emergency. Ilona will visit daily to administer the hormone treatment and to keep an eye on Valerio’s vitals, but she can’t be there twenty-four hours a day.

Valerio expected Dennis to object to that, but after Ilona pointed out that the hormone treatment could have unforeseen side-effects, Dennis agreed. Valerio was secretly relieved and assured, though. Dennis was a great source of support during the labour experiment, and Valerio is glad he can rely on him again. “But I’m not gonna run out in the middle of the night because you crave pickles,” Dennis tells him. “You can do that yourself.”

“Oh, come on, I’m not gonna have weird food cravings, am I? Are those hormonal?” He turns to Ilona again.

“Food cravings are still a bit of a mystery,” she admits. “But it wouldn’t surprise me if you have some, or if you start hating the smell of some foods.”

Great. “So long as I don’t start hating the smell of pizza and Chinese take-away,” he jokes, nerves settling low in his stomach. What the hell has he got himself into?

“Actually, some pregnant women can’t stand the smell of spicy foods.” Ilona actually looks apologetic at that. “So Chinese might not be your best option.”

Dennis pats him on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll eat your share.”

“Thanks,” he grumbles.

The third and most important rule, according to Ilona, is that Valerio shouldn’t change his usual daily routines. “Women in their first trimester don’t suddenly become bed-ridden,” she says. “If it wasn’t for the fact that their periods stop, some women might not even notice they’re pregnant in those first three months.”

“But you mentioned I might experience nausea and food cravings,” Valerio argues. “Those are pretty clear symptoms.”

“Nausea is a symptom for a lot of things.” Ilona starts listing them on her hand. “The flu, a stomach bug, a hang-over, stress, food poisoning… same goes for cravings. Haven’t you ever really felt like eating something in particular?”

“You do always want something deep-fried after a late shoot,” Dennis says, nudging his shoulder. “The greasier, the better.”

“That’s also about convenience.” Although yeah, he has to admit, when they finish shooting a segment after midnight, there’s nothing like a frikandel or kroket straight from the wall. But he wouldn’t call that a craving. “But basically I can carry on as normal and keep filming, so long as I don’t drink alcohol and share my place with Dennis?”

“Whoa, who said anything about me moving in with you?”

“Hey, if I’m gonna be fake-pregnant for three weeks, I’m doing it in my own home.” He’s not dealing with weird lumpy pillows or uncomfortable mattresses on top of this.

“Fine, but you better not hog all the blankets,” Dennis says.

Oh crap. While he does technically have a two bedroom apartment, he’s turned the spare bedroom into a room to keep his DJ equipment and some game consoles. It’s definitely not a guest bedroom.

*

The first day is weird, but that’s mainly because Valerio isn’t used to living with Dennis and Dennis isn’t used to living with Valerio, so compared to that, Ilona dropping by to stick some needles in Valerio’s body is perfectly fine. It hurts a little, and he can hear Dennis tsk when he winces involuntarily at the sting. “I can still feel pain, you know.”

“Wuss,” Dennis mutters, and wanders off into the kitchen.

Valerio watches him go and sighs. “You see what I have to put up with?” he mock-complains at Ilona.

“I’ve seen worse fathers-to-be,” she replies, smiling a little as she packs the needles away.

Dennis freezes at that, his hand hovering a few inches away from a kitchen cupboard. “What?”

“That I’ve seen worse fathers-to-be,” Ilona says again and yes, that still makes Valerio want to laugh.

“Good thing this isn’t real, then,” he says, grinning widely.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dennis loudly says from the kitchen, arms at his sides now.

“That you’d make a crap dad! She had to tell you how to hold the fake baby!” Valerio reminds him.

“Yeah, well, you couldn’t even give birth to a baby!”

“Boys.” Ilona’s voice is soft and calm, and it immediately makes them shut up. Valerio wonders on how many panicky parents-to-be she’s used it. “The next few weeks are going to be stressful enough for the both of you without you arguing over nothing.”

Dennis lets out a derisive snort. “He’s the one getting pumped full of hormones, not me.”

Ilona smiles, and there’s a mean edge to it. “Yes, but you’re the one who has to deal with him being pumped full of hormones.”

The look of fear on Dennis’ face is almost worth feeling shit-scared himself, but Valerio tries to mask it. Okay, yes, they’re gonna pump him full of hormones, but he’s got hormones of his own and it’s not actually going to be dangerous. It’s the first trimester of a pregnancy, not something life-threatening. He’ll be fine.

*

_1\. Morning Sickness Sucks_

On day four he wakes up feeling queasy and skips breakfast. Not even cheese on toast sounds appetising right now, and he turns away when Dennis offers him a cup of coffee. The smell alone sends his stomach roiling.

“It’s probably morning sickness,” Dennis says.

“Ya think?” Valerio replies, scooting his chair further away from Dennis and his stupid cup of coffee. “I hope it goes away soon, I’m not sitting in a production meeting for most of the day without lunch.” The lunches at those meetings are usually pretty damn good, and it’d be a shame to miss out.

“At least we’ll have something to tell Ilona and the producers.” Dennis takes another gulp from his coffee and sighs with contentment after he swallows. Valerio is pretty sure he mostly does it to annoy him. “I think they were getting bored at you not feeling any different.”

“Maybe I should suggest Ilona give you the shots as well,” he says. “Just to be sure. Didn’t one of the researchers say that a sample size of one is pointless?”

“I already gave birth,” Dennis replies. “You can do the pregnancy bit.”

Valerio pats his stomach. “So long as we’re not expected to do the sex bit once the three weeks are up.”

“You can be Saint Valerio of the Immaculate Conception!”

Saint Valerio. It’s got a nice ring to it.

*

The queasiness passes, Valerio wolfs down his lunch that day, and the producers are pleased that they’re getting some results. The next day Ilona visits them again, and she too seems pleased by his morning sickness. “It’s not pleasant, but it is a sign that things are going the way they should be,” she says. “It’s such a common symptom that some pregnant women get worried if they don’t suffer from it.”

“So I’ll be having it more often then? Or just once?” Valerio asks, wincing again at the injection.

“I can’t tell you how often, but yes, it’s very likely. And at least you know it’ll be over in 2,5 weeks, I’ve seen women whose morning sickness lasted four times that long.”

It’s the opposite of reassuring. “How do they manage?”

She shrugs. “They try to force something down anyway, light stuff like toast or beschuit. And obviously once the morning sickness passes they eat extra during lunch or dinner, or eat something extra in between meals. Maybe you should check out a few internet forums for pregnant women, you might find some helpful tips there for your morning sickness or your other symptoms.”

There is no way he’s gonna sign up for some internet forum to collect tips from random pregnant women. They’re not going through the same thing he’s going through, so how could they help? “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, because he’s learned not to argue with Ilona.

*

_2\. Food Aversion Sucks_

The next day he doesn't feel queasy at all, and he and Dennis do a late-night shoot, to test reflexes after drinking alcohol. Since Valerio isn't allowed to drink, he'll be the control group and spends the evening drinking fizzy drinks.

Dennis is half-drunk, his reflexes are definitely slower, and they get the shoot done a little after midnight. After packing up, they all decide to go the nearby Febo for a late-night snack. Valerio's definitely hungry for some fries, and it's been a while since he had a frikandel, but as soon as they get near the place and everyone discusses what they want, the strong smell of deep-fried food hits him and he feels queasy all over again. "Oh God, this is terrible." He walks away, hoping distance'll help, but he still feels like he's about to throw up.

Right, definitely no snacks for him, then.

One of the runners comes up to him. "You okay?"

He sighs, and gestures her for to join the others. "I'll be fine, I'll just stay over here."

A few minutes later, a wobbly Dennis is happily eating his hamburger and walks over to Valerio. "Mmm, delicious! You're not having anything?"

He eyes the burger and it does look good, but the smell makes him want to throw up. "No, I'm good."

"They're having a two-for-one deal," Dennis adds unhelpfully. "On frikandellen."

Valerio groans. Of course they're having a two-for-one deal now that he can't have any. "This is your fault, Dennis."

"Why?" his friend asks, after swallowing his bite.

"You got me pregnant!" His indignant, raised voice draws the attention of a couple of people grabbing snacks out of the wall slots. "I mean, you said I had to be the pregnant one," he adds, more quietly.

"Yeah, 'cause I already gave birth." Even a half-drunk Dennis' logic is still sound. "'s only fair, Valerio."

He jealously eyes Dennis' burger and the snacks the rest of the crew are having. It isn't fair at all. Dennis only suffered for two hours, he's suffering for three weeks.

*

_3\. Food Cravings Kinda Suck_

"Food aversion is also perfectly normal," Ilona tells him, ignoring Valerio's glare. "It usually lasts for most of the first trimester, but every case is different."

"So basically I'm gonna throw up if I get to close to a snackbar?" Damn, it's not even that he eats fries daily, but now that it's completely out of the question it's all he wants to do. "I hate being pregnant. Fake pregnant. Whatever. I hate hormones."

Ilona smiles at him as she prepares his arm for another shot. "You and every pregnant woman out there."

"At least you still like pizza and Chinese," Dennis calls out from the kitchen.

"We haven't tried Chinese!" Valerio shouts back. But damn, if he can't stand Chinese food, he's gonna quit. No matter how many times Dennis calls him a wuss.

*

That evening, Valerio is pleased to discover that he definitely can stand Chinese. "I don't know, I think it tastes even better than normal." He checks the receipt, but it's the same place where he usually gets it from. "Is there any more sambal left?"

Dennis passes him the small plastic cup. "Are you sure you're supposed to eat something this spicy? Isn't that bad for you?"

He shrugs. "I'm not actually having a baby, remember?" He smears some more sambal on his nasi goreng. "Seriously, it'll be fine."

Dennis eyes him warily. "Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you."

*

The next morning, thankfully free of morning sickness, he decides to finish the leftover Chinese food for breakfast. He ignores Dennis' mutterings that that much sambal can't be healthy. Clearly, Dennis is wrong and Valerio is gonna have to buy some more. It'll probably taste great with other things too.

*

"He's having sambal cravings," Dennis says on day 7 of the experiment when Ilona asks Valerio if he's been noticing anything out of the ordinary.

Valerio snorts. "I am not having sambal _cravings_." Just because he's been using it on the spaghetti Dennis made last night, or on his peanutbutter sandwich for lunch. And he hadn't even been able to have a proper breakfast thanks to the morning sickness. Maybe he should have some cheese on beschuit later. Cheese and sambal probably taste great together.

"You've eaten it with every meal," Dennis points out. "Is that a thing? Spicy food cravings?"

"It's not unheard of," Ilona replies, calm as always. "Valerio, craving certain foods is perfectly normal."

"I don't crave it," he insists. He doesn't. He just feels like eating it, that's all.

"He put it on his bread for lunch," says Dennis, who had been disgusted by it and still worried it might be harmful.

Ilona gives Valerio a stern look, and he sighs. "I guess I have been craving it. But it's harmless, right?"

"Oh yes, compared to some cravings, definitely," Ilona replies and Valerio beams smugly at Dennis. Hah, so much for Dennis and his worrying over nothing. "Some women report wanting to eat clay or rocks."

Not for the first time, Valerio thinks to himself that pregnancy is really, _really_ weird.

Dennis just looks at Valerio. "You are not leaving the house without me."

Valerio snorts and shakes his head. As if he's gonna go out, smear sambal over a brick and eat it. Actually, it doesn't sound so bad... "When do the cravings go away?" he asks, a little worried by his own thought process there.

"In due time," is all Ilona says.

*

_4\. Feeling Bloated and Sore Sucks._

"I think I'm gaining weight or something." He can't get the button on his jeans to close at all. He rubs his stomach, and it feels a little different. "Dennis!"

Dennis sticks his head out of the bathroom. "You had better not want to ask me if I think you look fat."

"Ha ha," he says drily, then demonstrates how he can't get his button to close. "I wore these a few weeks ago, they were just fine."

"Must be all the sambal you're eating," Dennis says, and disappears into the bathroom again.

Valerio, left alone in his bedroom, pokes his stomach again and sighs. It can't be the sambal, and he's pretty sure he hasn't been eating more than usual. He grumbles as he heads back to his closet to find a bigger pair of jeans and hopes Ilona can reassure him that he's just imagining things.

*

"So since I'm not actually having a baby, why is my stomach growing?" he asks.

"Oh yes, that'll probably be the bloating. How are your nipples? Getting sore?"

"I - what?" He feels his face go a little red, because who the hell asks that sort of question. "Not that I noticed?"

Ilona shrugs. "Well, if they do, that's normal too for pregnant women."

He flops down against the back of the sofa. "I am so glad we're over halfway through." His body keeps changing in weird ways, and he can't imagine if he had to do this for the full nine months.

*

That night he keeps tossing and turning. He can't get comfortable on his back, or on his sides, or on his stomach because the pressure against his stomach hurts. There's a dull ache in his lower back, almost like a sore muscle. He thumps his pillow again, rolling to his right side, and sighs.

"Are you done?"

"Sorry," he mutters, feeling bad for Dennis, who hasn't been able to fall asleep thanks to the tossing and turning. "I feel weird."

"You've been feeling weird the entire time," Dennis says. "But you've always slept like a log."

He rubs his lower back, trying to massage it, but the angle is awkward and it's not working. "I know."

"We've got a morning shoot."

Like he hasn't been thinking the same thing. "I know."

"So can you please lie still and try to get some sleep?"

He thumps his pillow again, since it's better than punching Dennis. "What do you think I've been trying to do?" He lies back down on his side and grunts in frustration. “My back hurts. Like I pulled a muscle or something.”

Dennis is quiet for a while, then shifts closer. “Where does it hurt?”

“Lower back.” Why does that even matter? He starts when he feels Dennis’ hand slide under his shirt. “Huh?”

“Where exactly?” Dennis asks, rubbing his back in small circles. “Here?”

“Bit lower,” Valerio replies, still surprised that Dennis is _rubbing his back_. He’s not gonna tell him to stop, because you never know, it might work. “Yeah, there.” Dennis presses down harder with his thumb, and Valerio lets out a pleased grunt. It does actually feel better. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Dennis replies, and he keeps rubbing Valerio’s back. “That better?”

“Yeah. My stomach’s feeling weird too, I don’t know why. It’s not the queasiness, I think.”

Dennis moves his hand over Valerio’s skin until it settles on his stomach. The warmth, oddly enough, is making him feel a little better. "Thanks, man."

"That’s okay," Dennis says behind him.

They lie like that for a while, and Valerio has his eyes closed and is almost asleep when he realises something. "Dennis?"

"What?" Definitely irritated now.

"...Are you spooning me?"

"Huh. I guess?" Dennis sounds as puzzled as Valerio feels. "I don't mind. Do you?"

"No," he says immediately. "It's nice." His lower back feels better, as does his stomach.

"If you tell Ilona or anyone else about this, I'm gonna murder you," Dennis says, shifting to get more comfortable as his chest is pressed against Valerio's back.

Valerio closes his eyes again, and smiles to himself. "Same.”

_5\. Increased Horniness Sucks_

While Dennis has been very helpful with the sore back issue and the weird stomach issue, and has even stopped drinking his coffee right next to Valerio, there are certain things Valerio won’t mention to him.

It’s day 14, he’s only got one week to go, and he’s feeling hornier than ever. Thanks to his stomach acting up, he’s been wearing baggier trousers than usual, which is awesome because they make it so much easier to hide his random erections. He’s never fully hard, but being at half-mast is bad enough. Thank God for boring production meetings, because while the subject matter does nothing against his raging libido, the table hides his problem very well.

When he gets back home, he locks himself in the bathroom for a nice, long wanking session, hoping Dennis won’t notice what’s going on.

“Don’t use up all the toilet paper!” Dennis shouts at him after about five minutes. “I think we’re nearly out.”

Valerio looks to the side for a moment. They still have two rolls. Should be enough. “Sure!” he shouts back. His voice sounded steady enough, he hopes.

When he emerges, he feels a lot better, although he’s tired and red-faced. Dennis takes one look at him when he enters the living room, and says that he’s going for a walk for at least an hour.

“It’s not that bad!” Valerio shouts as Dennis grabs his coat. “I’ve finished.” And yet he can feel his libido start to stir again. What the hell is in those hormones Ilona gave him?

Dennis snorts. “Not taking any chances. Seriously, you’ve got one hour. I’ll head to the supermarket and bring some toilet paper back.”

“We’re also running out of sambal,” Valerio adds helpfully.

Dennis narrows his eyes. “Fine, I’ll bring that too.”

Valerio grins as his friend leaves. He hasn’t felt this horny since being a teenager, and at least now he doesn’t have worry about his mother finding out.

By the time Dennis returns from his lengthy shopping trip, Valerio is half-asleep in bed, laptop shut down on the night-stand. “You feeling better?” Dennis asks.

“Yeah,” Valerio replies, but his penis is sore as hell and he’s still horny. “You know, I don’t think spooning is necessary tonight.”

“Trust me, I wasn’t planning on it.”

*

When the three weeks are officially up, Valerio opens a bottle of beer and takes a couple of long gulps, sighing happily. “God, I’ve missed that.”

Dennis looks amused, and opens his own bottle. “But you’re still glad you did it?”

He nods. “Yeah. I’m also glad I don’t have to do it for eight more months.”

“So am I.” Dennis sags further down on Valerio’s sofa. “Although I am gonna miss this.” He pats the armrest of the sofa. “And maybe, just a little bit, the whole ‘living with a fake pregnant you’ part. Tiny bit.” He holds his thumb and forefinger apart a fraction of an inch.

Valerio snorts, and pats his friend on the thigh. “Thanks. You know, if I had to carry someone’s kid, I wouldn’t mind it being yours. You’d make a pretty decent dad, once you learned how to hold a baby properly.”

“Aw, thanks, Floeperdewoepsie!” Dennis reaches out to ruffle his hair. “Same, if I had to give birth to someone’s kid, might as well be yours. You know, one that’s nice and small.”

He punches Dennis’ shoulder. “Hey, great things come in small packages.”

Dennis snorts. “Do you want to make the joke about your penis or shall I?”

He really only has himself to blame there. “Shut up, Dennis.”

Dennis just smiles as he drinks his beer in silence.

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to LadyOscar for the beta.
> 
> And in case anyone was wondering:
> 
> What is 'beschuit'? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rusk#Netherlands_and_Belgium_.28Flanders.29
> 
> What is 'FEBO'? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/FEBO (also for a demonstration of how on Earth you can get deep-fried snacks from a wall slot) 
> 
> What is 'frikandel'? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frikandel
> 
> What is 'kroket'? en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Croquette


End file.
